Facing Facts
by SiobhanP
Summary: None of them really had it right, Collins thought, but their failings complimented each other. MarkMimiRoger oneshot.


Collins was happy. He was dying, he'd lost the love of his life, and he was happy. He had his friends – his family – and he knew he'd see Angel again one day. It was enough. It was easy for Collins to be happy. He'd set the day aside for spending time with his friends, who for once all seemed in good spirits. Joanne and Maureen had had to bow out for some family event, but Mark, Mimi and Roger were all waiting for him in the loft when he arrived. Right away, he sensed the difference in the air, and at first he'd credited it to Mimi's presence; she'd moved in with Mark and Roger, half for convenience and half, they knew secretly, so the boys could watch her for any sign of relapse. But it quickly became evident that if Mimi was the difference, it wasn't her alone.

Mark and Mimi were together on the couch when he got inside, and Collins did a poorly-concealed double-take. Mimi was sprawled under his arm and against his chest, her right arm hooked around Mark's back and her left helping Mark hold a single large coffee mug from which they both periodically sipped. Mark still looked sleep-mussed; his glasses were missing and he was wearing boxers and an undershirt, but he was smiling faintly in a way that Mimi echoed so perfectly Collins knew it for a private look. It almost made him want to smile; he probably would have, if his mind wasn't stuck on Roger.

As if cued, Roger emerged from his bedroom, whistling under his breath. Collins' eyes were locked on his face as he registered Mark and Mimi, but he didn't even really seem to, just waved them a sleepy good morning and said, "Hey, Collins," before lumbering over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a formidable mug. Mimi lifted the mug off of Mark's lap, then slipped under it, burying her face against his throat. Roger sat down beside her and Mark in Mimi's old spot, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head. Collins was about to comment when Mark tilted his head sideways in Roger's direction and pursed his lips a little either in prompting or invitation. Roger laughed, grabbed him by the back of his neck and ruffled his hair, then leaned in obligingly and kissed him enthusiastically enough for a small pop to be audible when they parted. Mark blushed when he caught the look on Collins' face, but Roger just chuckled quietly, wearing that same secret smile below his drowsiness.

"So, uh, Collins…" Mark started awkwardly, his hand picking at the back of his neck until Mimi slid her hand between Mark's nails and his skin, rubbing away the indents he'd left with her thumb.

And finally, what felt like five minutes too slow, Collins understood. He understood that there was nothing really to understand. Mimi and Roger loved each other, Mark and Roger loved each other, and if he had no certainty about Mark and Mimi, well, it certainly looked like…

"Oh," Collins slowly said aloud. As realization struck him in its fullest, he cackled delightedly and clapped his hands. "Mark Cohen, just when I start getting' worried about you…"

Mark blushed brighter, Mimi peered out at Collins from behind a curtain of her hair, her eyes dancing, and Roger laughed heartily. "I, uh, Collins…" Mark blustered, making Roger bend double and laugh harder and Mimi smirk. "I mean, let's not jump to conclusions here… You don't know what's going on."

Roger stopped laughing and reached towards Mark, poking the tip of his nose. "I don't know that there's much more he could have seen to help him figured it out," he said mildly, grinning. He leaned in towards Mark as if to kiss him, then stuck out his tongue. "Well, at least nothing he wants to see."

Collins laughed. "Not without seeing a whole lot of skinny white ass."

Mimi giggled. "Hey now," she protested playfully. "I," she began grandly, "happen to be partial to skinny white ass. God knows why," she admitted, collapsing into laughter, "but I am."

Roger pouted and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at Collins and Mimi both, and Mark stopped looking embarrassed long enough to flash mock-hurt blue eyes at Mimi. Mimi rolled her eyes and patted Mark's cheek. Roger turned the same look on her and received a playful swat on the back of the head.

"Oww, hey!" he protested loudly. "What's that about?! Mark just…"

"Mark's Mark," Mimi replied calmly. "Besides, he did it first."

Roger gave her a look, and for a second Collins feared another of their famously heated arguments. It was when Mark interrupted that the whole picture came clear.

"Come on, guys," he protested. "She was kidding, Roger."

It wasn't much, but somehow it diffused the situation. Where Roger and Mimi reacted with passion, Mark let his emotions influence him but ultimately always chose practicality over feelings. They all had bad habits, but they all balanced each other. When Roger or Mark tried cutting themselves off from life, it was Mimi who reminded them to feel. When Mimi spent a night drinking or dancing or otherwise involved in "risky activities," Roger got angry. Mark nursed her through her hangover and exuded disappointment. They were expressing the same feelings, but Mimi was more responsive to an unintentional guilt trip than being screamed at.

Collins smiled and took a joint from behind his ear. "Well then, kids, let's seize the day."

Roger laughed. "Yeah, more like spend all day here devouring food. But we actually have stuff to eat, so that'll be nice."

"Oh, no, you're not spending all day inside," Collins replied cheerfully, sparking the joint. Roger tossed him a cigarette and took three more out. Mark looked like he wanted to refuse for a moment – it was no secret that the taste of tobacco was about enough to make him gag – but then the draw of the nicotine won and he took it. Collins laughed and tossed his lighter in the general direction of the couch. "Damn, boy, you've wasted enough of your life in this hole."

"Hole sweet hole," Mark said sardonically, shrugging. "We could afford to move now, really. But as shitty as it is, it's home." He lit his cigarette, then made a face and blew out the first drag. "How the hell are you supposed to do that without tasting lighter fluid?"

"Experience," Mimi replied, plucking Collins' lighter from his fingers. "Or maybe just waiting 'til the smoking kills your taste buds."

Roger took a draw from his cigarette, then followed it swiftly with a hit off the joint. It made him dizzy from nicotine and lack of oxygen, but he held it a few seconds before exhaling, breathing, then taking another puff before passing it to Mimi. "Yeah," he agreed. "It's probably a good thing it still grosses you out, actually."

Mark shrugged, "I'm not arguing with the nicotine, I'm just not much for the smoking part."

Mimi laughed and handed Mark the joint. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that. I did when I started. 'Course, I was twelve years old."

"God, Mimi, even I made fifteen," Roger chided, but his eyes were playful.

Mark grinned. "I still beat you all. So what is it we're going to do, if it's so important for us to get out of here?"

Collins shrugged. "I dunno. Grab breakfast at the Life and go wandering?"

"Yeah, because they're going to love their favourite patrons showing up stoned," Mark snorted, blowing out smoke as he did. He tossed the still-lit joint at Collins, who wisely let it hit the floor before picking it up.

"Please," Roger said. "They don't care as long as you pay. And if you're high, you'll just eat more then pay more."

"Okay, fine," Mark agreed. "Just let me get dressed." Mimi moved off of him and perched on the arm of the couch until he got off of the couch and let her reclaim the cushion. Collins stopped him and got him to take another couple hits off the joint before he left. Mark rolled his eyes, but seemed happy enough to oblige.

When Mark left, Collins couldn't resist asking, "So when did that happen?"

Roger looked as if he were going to pretend he didn't know what Collins meant or change the subject, but Mimi answered honestly before he could. "Maybe a month ago? He was just… he was so good to me. He put up with all my shit, never a hint of frustration, just "you can do this, Mimi"… As soon as I realized he was really doing it… just out of the goodness of his heart, that was that. And Roger needed to have it hit him in the face like a brick before he realized it, but he and Mark always were… something a little more than friends. Brothers, he tried to tell me. My ass," she snickered, and Collins chuckled. Much to Roger's chagrin, Collins saw the humour in it too. "They're no more brothers than Maureen and Joanne are sisters."

"Now hold on, Mark was no better," Roger protested. "First he tells me you were right about how he felt, then he has a million and one reasons why it can't happen… Then it happens and he decides it couldn't keep happening…"

"So did you," Mimi reminded him.

"Well yeah, but I had a reason. Mimi," he protested, lowering his voice and sounding sick, "could you really forgive yourself if he…"

"He shouldn't; we're careful," Mimi interrupted, with the weary tone of someone who'd heard it a thousand times but still had to acknowledge its truth. "And if it does? You're fucking right I'll be sick with myself. He's better than all this; he's the one who's supposed to make it out. But Mark's a big boy, he knows the risks. It won't make it any easier if it happens, but it's his choice to make, Roger."

"Easy for you to say. Try loving someone, owing them your life," Roger emphasized, "and finally getting it right just to fucking kill them. I've fucked him up enough."

Mimi gave him a look and asked softly, "He's still here, isn't he?"

Collins was struck by the realization that he was hearing something rather more personal than he was actually meant to, and reacted by making his way to the kitchen and busying his hands with utensils. He could still hear their conversation, but putting himself at a greater distance lessened his discomfort.

"He won't leave, Mimi," Roger insisted, though he didn't sound as if he particularly wanted Mark to actually go. "If he was going to get sick of either of us, God knows it'd have happened already; probably years ago."

"Exactly," Mimi told him softly. She kissed his cheek and stood up. "I'm gonna go get changed. Don't worry so much, babe. Talk to Mark, you'll feel better."

Roger groaned and slouched into the couch. "Why?" he muttered, loud enough for Collins to hear but mostly to himself. "He'll just say the same thing you do."

Collins left the kitchen and sat down on the couch. He gave Roger a serious look. "Could be because they're right," he suggested gently.

"They are," Roger admitted miserably. "It'd hurt if he left, Collins, but it would be worse if that happened. I can get used to not having him around. I wouldn't like it, but I could do it. If he got sick… no. I don't care whether he'd blame me. He wouldn't. Mimi wouldn't. I still would. It's got nothing to do with him or her."

"If Mark got infected with HIV, you mean," Collins said slowly, knowing it would do Roger some good in the long run to actually have to hear the words. Roger didn't get angry, but the pain the truth caused him was evident in his eyes. "Well, Roger, that's life. Sometimes it's a bitch. But it's worth it to Mark. I know damn well he loves you, and it sounds like he feels about the same about Mimi. He's happy, Roger, and he's opened up a lot more lately, too. Don't be selfish enough to take that away from him because you're scared."

"Couldn't if I tried," Roger said tiredly. "Mimi flat out told me if he leaves because I pushed him away that she's going too. I… need them both too much to lose them both at once."

"Yeah, but you don't want to, either," Collins said matter-of-factly. He tapped Roger on the left side of his chest. "All you gotta do's go with what's in here and the rest'll sort itself out."

"I already am," Roger mumbled. "It's just hard… especially how he talks about it."

"Huh?"

"Don't get me wrong, he's always really good about protection," Roger admitted, frowning, "but it doesn't sound much like he actually cares if it works."

"That's just goddamn foolish," Collins said, a little angrily. When he'd cooled down, once he'd gotten into Mark's head a little, he blew out a long breath. "Look, Roger, he's probably just thinking out loud. As long as he's careful, just let it go. If you were in his position, you might start thinking it didn't sound too bad, too. It doesn't mean he's actually gonna do it."

"How the fuck could he think that?" Roger demanded, sounding anguished.

"Pretty damn easy," Collins replied grimly. "Don't hold it against him, Roger; he knows he can't act on it and I highly doubt he wants to. Now stop with the buzzkill and go get whatever you have for sugary cereal."

Roger still looked miserable, so Collins poked him in the ribs, grinning ear to ear. Roger jerked away, and Collins practically pounced on him, laughing as he started tickling him.

"Hey," Roger shouted in protest. It was all he got out before collapsing into laughter. He began flailing in a vain attempt to break free, but when that failed he got vocal. "Collins, let me go!" he demanded. He was flushed and pink-eyed and laughing, which was what Collins had been going for, but thought he might as well get one more thing out of him.

"Nope," he replied with a wicked grin. "There's two conditions: one, you talk to Mimi and Mark about this and you do it soon."

Roger nodded, and even though he looked dazed and high Collins took his acquiescence at face value. "What's the other?" he asked breathlessly.

Collins grinned and stopped restraining him. "Get me the Cap'n Crunch. Now."

Roger went, grumbling half-heartedly.

---

They were at a Life Support meeting a couple of weeks later when Collins realized Roger must have done as he'd asked in a rather unexpected way. He'd suspected something was off when Mark asked him to take his camera and record the session for him, but he'd yet to figure out why. Then he did. The day's topic was relationships with negative people. Mimi, Mark, and Roger were the main speakers. All of a sudden, it made sense.

It was Roger who'd introduced them and explained, which was encouraging but surprising. He'd started off a little nervous – he'd greeted everyone with a shaky, "Hi," even though he knew everyone in the group, probably more personally than he knew Maureen. He'd looked back at Mark and Mimi as if entreating them to say something, but they'd both just smiled, Mark gesturing with his hand for Roger to continue. Roger had closed his eyes and nodded, breathing deep before he continued.

"Right," he breathed. "Now, most of you here know… uhm, all of us. If you don't… well, I mean, I know all of you, so I think we're okay."

Several people nodded, many of them wearing the same sympathetic smile Mark and Mimi had been.

"Yeah. Well… I think one of the most challenging things someone living with HIV can face is a new relationship with someone negative. I've never had to tell a… lover," he paused, and his distaste for the word was evident, "my status. I avoided Mimi until I found out she was positive, and Mark… Mark knows stuff about me I don't." Another pause, and he explained haltingly, "I know it's a strange set-up, but we all work together."

Another man in the circle smiled, interrupting, "Sweetie, there's not a damn person here who's gonna care as long as you're happy." Once more, the response was several nods.

Mimi stepped in then, squeezing Roger's shoulder. "There's a lot of room for guilt," she said slowly. "I won't speak for the rest of you, but Roger and I are sick partially because of some… really stupid choices we made. Neither one of us can say for sure if it was the drugs or the sex, but either way. And it's also a lot because of Mark that either of us are even still here now."

"Mimi," Mark protested, looking embarrassed. "I didn't…"

Mimi shook her head. "But you did," she said softly. "He was in the same environment as us, but he never ended up a junkie or infected. He kept it together, well enough to get Roger clean and on the medicine he needed. I came later. They both helped, but I couldn't have done it without Mark. Or Roger. Basically… we fucked up, he didn't, but he still stuck around. And it's okay, when there's no romantic part to it. You just kind of think "Mark's a hell of a guy for putting up with me." But then…" Mimi seemed uncertain then, and it was Mark who came to the rescue.

"Then someone fell in love," he explained shortly. "God knows who first, and it doesn't even really matter. And all of a sudden there's this whole sexual aspect."

"And for Mark, there's a lot of risk," Roger put in, still looking a little remorseful. "But… love counts for more than fear," Collins nodded approvingly at that and Roger grinned back at him nervously, having deliberately sought the philosopher's gaze as he said it, "and he chooses to take that risk every time he's with either of us."

"Something I can promise every one here, though?" Mark stopped, and suddenly it was evident he was no more comfortable sharing than Roger. He was the focus, not a spectator, and it wasn't a comfortable position for him. "The second love gets involved, it gets about a million times easier on the negative partner. And about a million times harder for the positive one. To me there's no question it's worth it, because I'm the one taking the chance."

"Whereas I kind of feel like a parent who lets their kid play in traffic," Roger added.

"It could kill him," Mimi said bluntly. "Way too easily. A cut he doesn't see somewhere, a broken condom… and that could be it."

"Oh, fuck that," Mark interrupted, upset. "It's not like it happens then I die the next day. There's life after HIV. You're here, aren't you? You're around to be worried about me getting sick. Mimi, you finished high school; you're in college. Roger, you're playing shows like you used to years ago. You fell in love with each other; you ended up feeling the same way about me. It's not just that I ignore being scared because I love you two, it's just that I'm really not that afraid. Whatever happens, my life's not over. You talk like you're scared of me dying. It's not dying, it's living with disease. And don't tell me I'm taking it lightly. Feels like I could spend the rest of my life with you, and it kills me to know I'm not gonna have the option. Believe me, I really do understand. You're not scared of me dying; you're scared you'll wake up one morning and feel like I do. I don't hold it against you, and I'm not saying you haven't suffered. But it's a hell of a fear to deal with," he finished, in a whisper that was beginning to break.

This, Collins thought, was far more beneficial than any speech could have been. This was the emotional heart of the issue unfolding right before their eyes. And to Mark and Roger, it wasn't just cathartic, it was a big step. Mark was opening up, even if it meant he was presently trembling in Mimi's arms with his back to the group, and Roger was finally willing to identify with other people. They'd gone leaps and bounds, those boys, and Mimi too. Angel would have been proud.

If the rest of the meeting was more practical and impersonal, still, it was clear to Collins that his friends were no less emotional about it. Mimi had scarcely released Mark before Roger seized him and held him hard, whispering to him frantically. "Never gonna keep things from you again," was all Collins caught before his voice became muffled by Mark's hair. Mark had regained his composure, but now it was Roger who was shaking. He wasn't crying, and so Collins assumed it was merely the release of weeks' worth of worry and stress. Mimi just watched them out of the corner of her eye, her relief tinged a little with sadness for what could have been. Collins let it go on for a few minutes before setting down the still rolling camera, going to her side, and opening his arms in invitation. Mimi grabbed him with about as much force as Roger had Mark, burying her face against his shoulder for a few seconds before pulling away and flashing him a bright smile.

"It was their problem," she told him quietly. "I don't like watching either of them hurt, but they had to fix it on their own. I'm glad they did."

"Well, they're glad they did," Collins remarked, gesturing to the two men, who were talking back and forth. Their voices were still tumbling out in an urgent, passionate rush, each managing a few words at a time before being kissed. Mark caught sight of Mimi and moved away enough to gesture for her to join them, causing Roger to look hurt until he realized what Mark was doing. Mimi walked over to them, waving a little sarcastically at Roger, who still looked a little confused.

"I love you both," Mimi told them, in the same low, rushed tone they'd been using, as though it might be her last chance to say the words. "Don't you ever fucking hurt each other again." That was all she managed to get out before Mark turned in Roger's arms and kissed her. She melted against him and all three of them stood together, oblivious to the rest of the room and to Collins' smile as he filmed them.


End file.
